


Time's Up

by hazellepotter



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Royalty, Costume Parties & Masquerades, F/M, Fluff, Halloween, Implied Future Romance, Period Piece, Redemption, Strangers to Lovers, Witch Curses, Witchcraft, masquerade balls
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-26
Updated: 2018-10-26
Packaged: 2019-08-07 18:03:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,152
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16413272
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hazellepotter/pseuds/hazellepotter
Summary: She was selfish, she was cunning, and she was ambitious. She would find a way to her throne. She did not care if she was a woman. It would happen, and she would prove to her father that she was worthy. Even if it meant playing a game.





	Time's Up

**Author's Note:**

> This is wildly historically inaccurate when it comes to details and being a period piece. I just wanted to warn you all. But I must say so myself, it is still entertaining. If that doesn't bother you, read away. 
> 
> Also, I got some heavy inspiration from the classic tale of Cinderella for this. A lot of parts are just swapped or twisted to fit my needs.

Pansy didn't give a shit about honor, but to her father, it was important. She also didn't give a shit about commoners, but apparently they were important to her father, too.

King Parkinson was unlike the rest of his ruling line. Pansy seemed to take after her great grandfather. _She was selfish, she was cunning, and she was ambitious._ She would find a way to **her** throne. She did not care if she was a woman. It would happen, and she would prove to her father that she was worthy. Even if it meant playing a game. She knew her father wasn't against a woman being in power, but he was against _her_ being in power. 

But on the night before Halloween, he gave her a proposition.

He asked her to meet him in his chambers. She was already in her dressing gowns and highly annoyed that he would even think to disrupt her, but he was the King. What he said went. So she followed her handmaiden Millicent through the dark stone hallways and pulled her cloak close to her chest as she muttered obscenities under her breath.

When she entered her father's chambers, she saw the portrait of her mother. She looked away from it quickly. It brought up too many feelings, and feelings were a sign of weakness. Vulnerability was not allowed when you were a royal, even though her father tried to argue otherwise. 

Her father looked up directly at her from his writing desk. She noticed a small smirk playing at his lips. She didn't like it.

"Millicent, please leave us," he told her handmaiden, "I will make sure my daughter gets back to her chambers safely tonight after our discussion."

"Yes, my lord." 

Pansy rolled her eyes as Millicent bowed and quickly ran out of her father's chambers. She would do anything to ignore her father's lingering gaze.

"What can I do for you, father?" Pansy finally asked.

She picked at her nails to avoid eye contact.

"Please," her father offered, "Sit down and join me. This could be a long discussion."

Pansy looked up from her nails and perked her brow in suspicion. He never wanted to have long discussions with her. He usually knew they went nowhere. She was too stubborn. 

Curiously, Pansy walked over to the chair her father was offering her and took a seat. 

Her father took a drink from his goblet and set it down gently. He closed his eyes for a moment and sighed.

"I do not trust you to take my place at the throne when you come of age-" 

"Are we having this discussion again, father?" She asked him, "I do not need to hear anoth-"

"You need to learn patience, Pansy. I have not finished what I was about to say."

Pansy rolled her eyes. She knew what he was about to say. It wouldn't make a difference, but she shut her mouth anyway.

"I was going to say, I _might_ if you take up this offer I am going to give you."

Pansy's ears perked up.

"Like a proposition? I thought you were not into those, father."

"I am not usually, but I have realized over the years that you are just like my grandfather. He had to have a challenge to take anything seriously, so I might as well play along."

Pansy smirked, "I did not know that you were capable of scheming, my lord. I will say I am intrigued."

Her father chuckled, "Well, now that I have your attention, I will bring Lady McGonagall inside."

He turned to his guard Sir Potter and nodded. Sir Potter then turned his body to open the chamber's doors. 

Lady McGonagall walked in wearing her normal attire. An emerald green velvet gown and silver spectacles. Pansy always thought she was dreadfully plain, but she did not dare mess with the lady. She had strict rules in their library, and she was always willing to punish the princess during their lessons if she went out of line. Her father had given her permission. Lady McGonagall's mind was sharp, but her tongue was _sharper._

"Princess Pansy," Lady McGonagall curtsied, "I am glad you stayed long enough for this meeting. I have to say I am surprised."

Pansy scoffed, and she watched her father grin from the corner of her eye before spoke.

"Lady McGonagall, I am so happy you could join us at this late hour. Please take a seat."

She bowed her head and took a seat next to Pansy. Like usual, Pansy tried to avoid all eye contact.

"As I was saying," the King continued, "If you take up this offer I am about to propose, you will have a chance at the throne. But only if you succeed."

"What's the proposition?"

He leaned back in his chair, and Pansy noticed that Lady McGonagall sat up straighter in her's as though she was expecting a disaster.

"You will attend the commoners Masquerade Ball tomorrow night to celebrate Halloween and learn to care for a commoner. If you can do this, then you can have the throne."

Pansy snorted, "Is that all? I just have to be nice to a commoner?"

"Being nice for your own selfish desires is different than caring from your heart, Princess," Lady McGonagall interjected, "And we will have a way of knowing if you are genuine."

"How?"

Lady McGonagall smiled like she had power. It made Pansy's skin crawl.

 _"Magic,"_ she said simply.

Pansy's eyes turned wide, "But father, I thought you hated-"

"I do not condone most witchcraft, but I trust Lady McGonagall with my life. She has never used witchcraft for evil."

"Yo-you're a _witch?_ " Pansy stuttered.

Lady McGonagall nodded, "My powers have been passed down through generations. We always use them to aid the King in times of peril. But for now, I only use them for simple tasks. I mostly like to focus on my books and mind."

"What's the catch?" Pansy asked seriously, "You are not going to make this easy, father."

Her father knotted his finger's together and leaned forward. He motioned for Sir Potter to do something again. Pansy turned around to see that he had picked up a pumpkin from her father's bed and was bringing it over to his writing desk.

"This, is a pumpkin," he said simply, "And it will stay a pumpkin if you fail."

"How does this impact me?"

Lady McGonagall piped up, "It impacts you, because that is your beloved Draco."

Pansy's eyes went wide and she stood up quickly from her chair. 

"You cannot do this!" Pansy cried, "His parents will start a war over this! We just ended a war!"

"Only if you fail," her father explained, "I expect you not to fail. Especially if you are interested in taking the throne and marrying your beloved Draco Malfoy."

Fuming, Pansy's hands turned to fists. But she took a deep breath and released them. She calmly sat back down and seriously asked, "How do I learn to care for a commoner in one night? Must I love them?"

"Love is not a requirement, but genuine empathy is," her father explained, "All you have ever shown me is selfishness and true disdain towards commoners. These are the people you would be ruling. I need you to show me that you can do what is right and best for them."

Pansy sighed.

"So," Lady McGonagall asked, "Are you taking your father's offer?"

"Yes," Pansy replied. She would do _anything_ for the throne.

Her father smiled.

"Good," Lady McGonagall explained, "But you will need to follow some rules. You must not tell the commoners who you are, that is why the ball has been arranged to be masquerade. They must think you are one of them and you must learn to _see_ like one of them. Also, you will need to complete the task by midnight. If you cannot genuinely empathize and care for a commoner during that time-frame, your beloved Draco will permanently be in his current pumpkin state. Do you accept the terms?"

"Yes," said Pansy through gritted teeth, "May I go now, father?"

Her father got up from his chair and offered her his arm, "Of course, my daughter. I will escort you back to your chambers."

They bid farewell to Lady McGonagall as Sir Potter opened the chamber doors for them to exit.

They walked down the castle halls in silence for a few moments until Pansy dared to ask, "If you think I'm so selfish, how do you think I will succeed?"

Her father answered immediately, "I do not think you are inherently selfish, Pansy. You never were as a little girl. Just ever since your mother died-"

_"I do not want to talk about her."_

"All I am trying to interject is that you are capable. You just need to learn to accept vulnerability."

"Vulnerability is for the weak."

They stopped in front of her chamber's door, "Only childish Princesses say that, _not Queens_."

Pansy looked down at the ground and blinked a few times. All she wanted to do right now was avoid her father's gaze. But he cupped her cheek and pulled her attention back up to his.

"Vulnerability is not weakness, my daughter. It is strength, and if you practice that tomorrow, you will be a worthy Queen. I have faith in you. _I always have._ "

After that, he left her alone in front of her door. Pansy stood there for what seemed like hours before entering her chambers. She was not sure if she was capable of this task, but the throne depended on it. And Pansy was not used to failure. 

* * *

Pansy tossed and turned the whole night. She was beyond nervous, and that was unlike Pansy. But the day passed by fast as Millicent readied her for the ball.

Before leaving her chambers for her carriage. She caught sight of herself in her mirror. Her long black hair was pinned to the top of her head, and she wore a crimson gown that sparkled every time the light hit it. Her mask was black with jewels, and it made her green eyes pop. She was unrecognizable as the princess. Millicent made sure of that, but she oddly felt like herself in a new form. Pansy swallowed that feeling down.

Lady McGonagall and King Parkinson greeted her as she made her way down to her carriage. Sir Potter opened the door for her, and Pansy considered not saying a word to either of them, but her father spoke up.

"Good luck, Pansy. I hope you genuinely succeed."

"Put your mind to the task, Princess," Lady McGonagall added, "You can do anything if you allow yourself to feel."

"Thank you," Pansy said curtly. But she curtsied to her father and then entered her carriage to leave for the ball.

* * *

The carriage her father chose was very plain and fit in with the commoners. They would have no idea that a royal was attending their ball. 

As they pulled up to the local town hall, Pansy took a deep breath. She snorted to herself as she noticed some of the commoners outfits, but she was then distracted by a crowd of red hair. 

She realized quickly it was a family all coming to the ball. Their mother was plump and their father was lanky. They looked as though they did not have a dime to their name. Their masks were clearly made from home rather than at the tailors, and their dressing gowns were years old. These would be her perfect subjects, she realized, but she had no idea how she could genuinely empathize with people like them. 

She stepped out of her carriage and nodded for her driver to leave her. As her carriage pulled away, she picked up her gown and began to walk into the building. 

Deep in thought, she did not realize the family of redheads had stopped in front her. She ran straight into one of the sons.

"Hey, watch where-" She started, but her words were cut short when he turned around and their eyes met.

His eyes were ridiculously blue. The type of blue found in men's eyes that were described in Lady McGonagall's classic romance literature. Pansy was taken aback.

"Sorry, miss," he said, "I did not see you there."

Pansy cleared her throat. Her palms started to sweat. _What was this feeling?_

"It-it is alright," she told him, "I was just clumsy and not looking where I was going."

He smiled at her calmly and now offered her his arm. She realized his family had already gone inside.

"May I escort you inside?" He asked her, but then he quickly realized what had came out of his mouth and his cheeks turned red. "I mean, only if you want me to. I do not mean that I would be your escort, we just met, I just mean-"

He was awkward and not well-spoken. He was definitely a commoner, but Pansy swallowed down the blunt comments she so desperately wanted to spew.

"You may escort me," Pansy said vaguely, "I have come alone anyway."

The boy looked surprised as Pansy took his arm.

His arm was firmer than she was expecting. He was tall and lanky like his father, but she realized he must be a farmer. His skin was rough and his arms were strong. He had been working all his life, and he could not be more than seventeen like she was. She suddenly wondered what his life had always been like.

As they entered the hall, musicians played a familiar tune. It was one of Pansy's mother's favorites.

"This was my mother's favorite song," Pansy told him suddenly, "She used to love hearing it played."

"Used to?" The boy asked.

Pansy gulped.

"My-my mother passed away when I was young," she confessed, "I haven't heard it played since."

The boy turned red again and stuttered, "I-I am so sorry. I overstepped."

"No," Pansy told him honestly, "It is fine, it is actually good to talk about her."

"My brother passed away in the war," the boy told her in return, "He was barely of age. His name was Fred. He was a twin. It was hardest on George."

"I'm so sorry," Pansy said genuinely, "I cannot imagine."

The boy looked down, and she realized she had still not let go of his arm. She considered letting it go now and maybe mingling with others, but she had to ask him something.

"I must know," she started, "What is your name?"

"I'm Ronald Weasley," he told her, "The sixth son in my family."

The sixth son. _He had no rank._ He would _never_ have rank. Even if his family ended up with a fortune. 

"Do you have any siblings?" He asked her curiously.

"No," she told him, "I do not."

"It is hard sometimes, being the sixth son. It does not leave me with a lot of options, even though I am a man. I cannot be like my little sister and marry into wealth easily since I should provide it to my bride, but I will not receive the little money my parents have to their name. But that is the life of a commoner, especially when you are a farmer. You have to have enough hands to provide."

Pansy had guessed correctly, he was a farmer. But that did not seem to matter to her anymore. All she knew was she wanted to ask him more. And so she did. She asked him questions as they danced, he introduced her to his family, he even took her for a stroll. It was then that the clock struck midnight, and the truth hit Pansy like a ton of bricks. _She had no idea if she had succeeded._

She watched from the corner of her eye as her carriage arrived, and that is when she noticed Ronald looking up the hill towards her home. The castle was beautiful at night, she couldn't blame him.

"Do you ever wonder what it would be like to be royal?" He asked her.

She was about to come up with some easy lie, but he started talking again before she could respond.

"If I was royal, I would do everything I could for commoners. King Parkinson tries his best, but I worry he does not do enough. I also worry the next in his line will not have the same honor he has had as he has ruled us. A royal should help others. _What is the point of all that power if you cannot use it for good?"_

Pansy knew he was mainly talking to himself, but she still answered him honestly, "I do not know."

He turned to face her. He smiled down at her, and Pansy tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. She knew it was time to go and check on Draco; she knew it was time to see if she had succeeded. She just did not want to leave yet. Ronald Weasley was just too intriguing. But this was not her reality. Reality was waiting for her back home. 

"Well, my time's up," Pansy told him, "My carriage is here, and my father will be expecting me home soon. It was nice meeting you Ronald Weasley."

She was not sure what she expected to happen next, but she curtsied to him and turned to leave. As she started to walk away, she heard him call, "Wait! I forgot to ask, what is your name?"

Pansy stopped in her tracks and blinked a few times. She contemplated ignoring him, but she could not do that. So she turned around and replied, "Pansy, like the Princess. It is a weird coincidence."

She expected him to put two and two together, but he didn't. Or if he did, he didn't let her know it. She figured it would be outrageous for him to think she was the true princess. Maybe he did not even care. All she knew was that she technically broke a rule. 

"Well," he told her, "I hope to see you soon, Pansy."

She smiled and told him confidently, _"You will."_

She wasn't sure how or when she would see him again; she just knew she would.

* * *

Pansy arrived home after midnight and took a deep breath as Sir Potter opened the door to her father's chamber. When she walked inside, she saw Draco sitting at the edge of her father's bed looking confused. _She had done it._

Once her father came around the corner, Draco noticed her presence. He shot her an arrogant smile; the one Pansy adored. But it no longer made her feel the same way. All she could think about was the Weasley boy's eyes. 

She had won the throne, she realized, but she had won something more important. 

**The power to do something good.**


End file.
